


Pray

by chemical_darkblue



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angel/Human Relationships, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Homophobic Language, M/M, Religious Parents, Sad Louis, Self-Harm, They are cuties, harry is a cherub, larry af, louis is sad, so please be careful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:44:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5184221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemical_darkblue/pseuds/chemical_darkblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"in the land of gods and monsters, i was an angel..."</p>
<p>or the one where louis is sad and wants everything to end and harry is his angelic savior</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pray

Crimson trickled down, across the boy’s arm, as he shut his eyes, eyelids relaxed. He let out a breath, resting against the wall against his back. He felt release and calm, almost. His mind was at ease, only focusing on the task. He slid the sharp silver blade across his tanned skin, inhaling as blood slipped out of the newly formed slit on his wrist. He slowly, carefully brushed the silver across his arm several more times, before releasing a low hiss, fingers curling into a fist and clenching, as he pressed too hard against his skin. He took a deep, shaky breath, cerulean eyes flickering to his self-inflicted lacerations. He set the silver in a shoebox gingerly, moving to examine his arm. He counted nearly ten incisions across the underside of his arm and wrist, the last three still with drops of crimson slipping out of them. He shut the shoebox, sliding back into it’s proper place, under his bed and out of sight. He then seemed to realize his hands were shaking. He stared at them, almost in confusion.

He took a deep, uneven breath before pushing himself to his feet. The boy paused here he was, a hand against the wall to support him, the other palm pressed to his forehead as his head swam. He stayed in place for a few moments, before stepping out of the bedroom silently, briskly walking across the hall to the upstairs bathroom. He swiftly shut the door, twisting the lock on it. He stepped towards the sink, turning the handle for cold water. He ran his arm under the nippy water, hissing when the fluid hit against his skin. His free arm reached forward, quickly shutting off the cool stream. He snatched a small towel, pressing it against his marked arm gently. He soon tossed the towel into a basket, exiting the washroom. Just as he opened the door to his own bedroom again, his mother walked by, tears in her eyes as she glanced at her oldest child.

“Mum?” He murmured, voice hesitant. He nearly turned to face her, before the air caused his arm to sting, reminding him that he had yet to conceal his lacerations.

“Hm, yeah, Louis?” His mother cleared her throat, petite hand brushing her dark hair back, away from her face. She smiled at him, but it was small and tight, so obviously forced; Louis was familiar with those smiles.

Louis stammered for a moment, trying to gather his words. “A-Are you alright?” He murmured, turning his head to glance back at her.

Her smile faltered for only a moment. “Yes, love. I’m fine. Just..just get ready for school.” Jay whispered, before continuing on her way downstairs.

Louis didn’t comprehend what was going on between him and his own parents. He rarely saw them, unless forced to, as he holed himself in his bedroom most days. But, when he was in the same room as either his mother or stepfather, his mother often became teary eyed recently, or his stepfather wouldn’t even dare to meet his eyes. His parents often had hushed, secretive conversations when they were in their own bedroom, late at night, but Louis heard their mumbles, just couldn’t comprehend the soft words. Louis shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. He stepped into his bedroom, softly shutting the door. He stumbled over to his small, cluttered closet, soon digging through the scattered piles of clothing with his bare hands. He soon found a burgundy jumper, a size larger than he needed it to be. He pulled it over his head, hissing yet again when the material brushed over his wounds. He took a shaky breath, letting his oceanic eyes slip shut. He still felt light-headed. He exited the claustrophobic closet, moving to sit on the very edge of his bed, thighs still burning from yesterday’s session with the silver.

His sessions were like an afflictive addiction. He craved the moments when the silver slipped across his tanned flesh, the sting of crisp oxygen against fresh lacerations. The actions often helped him calm his mind, take his mind off of his own thoughts that stress him, such as wanting to screw practically half of the lads in his year, or the risk of his parents, his family knowing of his sessions. Shit, if his parents found out about his relationship with the silver blades under his bed, they’d probably just take him to church, or to confession and not even try to deal with their son.

Louis often turned to the treacherous security blanket the silver offered him, though he knew it wasn’t the the best way of dealing with things, but it was just what he did. He didn’t exactly have people who found Louis a pleasure to be around, _friends_. It wasn’t like he didn’t want friends, he just didn’t quite care one way or the other. He seemed to dread school most days, simply not wanting to waste his time with those arrogant pricks.

He sighed when he heard his mother call his name, beckoning him to breakfast. He changed out of his baggy flannel pants, scouring his closet and soon finding a pair of dark jeans, ones that clung to his calves and thighs. He sniffed them, to clarify that they were washed recently. Concluding that they were, in fact, clean, he pulled them onto his legs, buttoning them and heading out of his room.

-x-

Louis took a soft breath as his step father pulled up in front of the high school. The older man cleared his throat, as if it was a signal for Louis to get out. He muttered out a ‘bye’ to the man, before snatching his bag and climbing out of the car. Nearly the moment he shut the door, the middle aged man was driving off, one of his sisters climbing onto the front seat. He shrugged to himself, figuring they were running late.Louis turned to the school, heading inside. Louis walked down the main hallway, refraining from throwing up at the sight of the obnoxiously decorated lockers. It was obvious who they belonged to. Ones with little foam cheer outfits and fake megaphones attached were occupied by the cheerleaders, ones with footballs, the football team. Even the stereotypical cliques, such as groups of nerds or the more spoiled students, so called _preps_ , had an obnoxious, easy to spot design. Louis’ locker was also easy to spot, but not because of that. It was practically the _only_ locker in the school that was completely bare. He didn’t see a point in decorating his locker. Once he spotted his bare blue locker, the color of all the lockers underneath various decorations, he pulled it open. He didn’t have a lock on it, it took him nearly ten minutes to unlock it so he never bothered with it.

He faintly heard students behind him whispering. Out of pure curiosity, he looked back, spotting a few girls in very expensive, yet bland clothing, whispering to each other. They glanced at Louis several times but froze when they realized he was looking. They released a few high pitched squeaks, that honestly hurt his ears a tad, before rushing down the hallway. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been gossiping about the new rumour concerning Louis. He sighed, giving his head a light shake before he grabbed a few books from his locker, heading towards his first class of the day.

-x-

By the time lunch came, Louis was regretting getting up in the morning. He often prided himself on his grades, his intelligence. Yet, he was doing horrible in classes today and he just really wanted to smash his face against his desktop until the face was unrecognizable as him. He shuffled to the cafeteria silently, bag over his shoulder, bagged lunch in his hand, that he’d retrieved from his locker moments before. Lunch was probably the worst time of the day for him. He had to sit in an open space with so many people that either didn’t speak to him or nearly hated him, for reasons unknown to Louis. He sat down at a round table that was currently vacant. He opened up the brown bag before him, sighing when he saw a ham and cheese sandwich, an apple and a juice box. He didn’t even like ham and cheese sandwiches. He grabbed the apple from the paper bag and a water bottle from inside his backpack. He opened up the water bottle, taking a quick swig before he spotted someone sitting beside him, from the corner of his eye. He sighed, setting the bottle down, quickly twisting the cap back on, before glancing out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you want?” He murmured softly, soon averting his gaze.

“I can’t sit with my mate?” The younger boy gave a lopsided grin.

He shook his head in response. “No, Niall.” He muttered.

Niall was from out of the country, Ireland to be exact. His family had moved to town after his father had been fired from his job in their village. The only reason Louis knew that is because the Irishman told Louis nearly his whole life story the day they met. Niall was a friendly, bubbly lad and Louis didn’t understand why he insisted on being friends with the Doncaster native. The lad looked like he’d fit right in with nearly anyone else at their school, with blonde hair, though Louis himself could tell it was bleached, with baby blue eyes that Louis would long for when he was a bit younger, rather than his own eyes. Yet, Niall ignored students each time a girl attempted to flirt with the blonde boy, or a male tried to befriend him. He only wished to be Louis’ friend.

Niall’s lower lip jutted out in a pout. “And why not, eh?”

_Because you’re wasting your time._ Louis didn’t say anything. He stood, leaving his apple, with only a bite taken out of it, and lunch bag. He exited the cafeteria, chewing nervously on his lip. He made a sharp right, quickly stepping around a girl he nearly plowed down.

She scoffed, snapping at him, a stick of pink lip gloss in hand. “Faggot.”

Louis’ brow furrowed at her remark. He’d come out as gay to his peers a few years beforehand but he still wasn’t accustomed to being insulted to his face. He shook his head as the girl headed within the cafeteria and he continued walking. He made his way to the music room, where he always could get some peace and quiet. He entered, nodding to the teacher eating lunch from behind his desk. Louis made his way to the far corner of the room, settling into a desk there. He reached into his backpack, pulling out a worn leather-bound journal and a blue pen. He glanced up, seeing a student come in. He knew her.

The girl was two grades below Louis and, _God_ , was she annoying, to him at least. He appreciated the effort, he did, somehow. She smiled at him, showing off braces, and walked over to him. She sat in the desk beside him. Her dark hair was pulled up, into an excruciatingly tight bun, on top of her head, as always. She smiled at Louis, asking how he was.

Louis shrugged in response, hardly paying attention. She often tried to chat with him, befriend him, just like Niall. He turned away from her, beginning to scribble into the worn journal, chewing on his lip roughly. Louis was often told by many other students that he was very bitter. _If I’m bitter now, imagine how bad I’ll be in thirty years._ Louis wasn’t bitter or angry or just fucking pissed off. He was sad. He wasn’t confused. He wasn’t angry. He knew what sad felt like, and that was it. He didn’t even know why. That was what made him mad. Not his peers, though they did get annoying, not his sisters, the most irritating angels he knew, not even how serious his parents were about their religion, though Louis had decided he was an atheist several years ago, soon after deciding he was gay.

Louis’ attention was caught when the girl snapped her fingers in front of Louis’ face. He looked up raising an eyebrow at her. Her face flushed in embarrassment and she stammered. “The bell rang.”

His brow furrowed, but Louis nodded, packing up his pen and journal, before grabbing his rucksack and exiting the music room. He didn’t even have that as a class, just liked the room. He headed down several halls, hearing whispers upon whispers, mentioning his name. He was sick of all of them, how childish they were.

-x-

Louis sighed in relief when he sat in his seat. It was his last class of the day, one of his favorites. Art. He often looked forward to the class, partly because he really wasn’t forced to interact with other students, and there were few people in the class. The teacher gave some simple instructions, telling them that they were free to simply doodle. Louis’ seat was near the front of the class, with an empty desk to his left, an occupied one to his right. THe lad that occupied the desk beside his was an alright bloke. He didn’t really bother Louis much, he wasn’t a complete prick like most of his peers. He knew his name was Zayn Malik. Some days, he would come to school looking like some kind of sex god, other he’d look similar to a drug addict, a homeless one at that. But, he sort of liked Zayn. He was quiet and he was nice, and one hell of an artist. Louis himself sucked ass when it came to any kind of art. Zayn gave him a small smile, black stubble around his lips. Louis gave a short nod in response, before looking to the sketchbook on his desk.

-x-

After Louis had walked home, as his step father was working, he came home and watched his sister for a bit, before going to his room and actually doing his homework. By the time he was finished, Jay was calling his name for dinner. He dreaded dinner. He didn’t want to have to pretend around his family, but they always said grace before dinner. He sighed, soon heading down stairs, nearly sliding across their hardwood floors in his socks. He sat at the dinner table, between his oldest younger sisters. His face was blank. His mother set the food on the table, scalding Louis’ upper arm, causing him to hiss in pain. She apologized, hardly sounding sincere. Once they were all sat at the table, food before them, his mother smiled weakly. They all clasped their hands together, Louis hesitant in doing so. His step father saying grace, speaking for them all. Each one of them said “amen” afterwards, except Louis of course.

Jay cleared her throat. “Louis. I didn’t hear you say amen.”

He shrugged. “Because I didn’t.”

She sighed. “Say it.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to because he didn’t mean it.

“Louis William. Say it.” She snapped.

“No.” He muttered.

She raised her voice. “Louis!”

He winced, saying it softly. “Amen.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so very pumped hello  
> comment and give kudos!!! it satiates me


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